


Apathy

by kathgrr



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief, Mental Illness: Major Depression, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-02-12
Updated: 2006-02-12
Packaged: 2017-10-04 08:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathgrr/pseuds/kathgrr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now, the aftermath of the fight is the only time she feels remotely alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apathy

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Season Two, Scar.  
> Disclaimer: Not mine.  
> Author's Note: Unbeta'ed, Be gentle, this is my first fic post.

She's been sober for ten days.

She blasts eight raiders out of the sky two weeks after Scar dies. The title of "Top Gun" returns to its rightful owner. The irony of it all is that she wasn't even trying. Kat skulks around like a bear with a sore thumb. Starbuck can't bring herself to gloat. She takes the keg and just sticks it on a shelf in the CAG's office.

When she's not on duty, she spends most of her time in her rack. She sits there quietly with the curtains drawn and her bunk mates are all too weary of her right hook to bother her. If asked what she does there, she can't really answer because she honestly doesn't know. She isn't thinking much. Her brain is running slow and she's just tired all the time.

Helo is the only one who dares to disturb her. He doesn't ask. He just drags her out of her rack and pushes, nudges, and generally harasses her until she goes with him to the Gym. He's like a puppy with an endless supply of energy. And she can't find it in herself to tell him to frak off. Seeing as he made the effort, she tries to make sure she's all there. She tries to keep up with the snarky comments, the sly banter and the requisite toaster jokes, but it falls short of the old Starbuck and they both know it.

Lee tries to pull her out for runs in the morning. But his hide is not as thick as Helo's, and after a couple days of her refusal, he quits trying. He thinks she's avoiding him because of their near-frak. She thinks that's kind of absurd since they've done much worst to each other. But it makes him keep his distance, and that's such a relief that she doesn't bother to correct him.

She still flies like a demon with a hellhound on her back, but it is mostly instincts and habit. Firefights with the Cylons still get her heart pumping, but it doesn't have the same edge. She used to get so high from combat that she either finds a convenient warm body for a quick frak or heads to the gym to pound the bag until the adrenaline fades. Now, the aftermath of the fight is the only time she feels remotely alive.

Her presence in the rec room is rare now. The queen of triad no longer presides over her subjects. Those who transferred from the Pegasus have no idea who the rest of the crew are yammering about when the card shark is mentioned.

She doesn't think she's depressed. Because to be depressed, you have to feel something and she doesn't think she is capable of that right now. She isn't suicidal, and she doesn't want to die. But she doesn't think she would mind terribly if she did either.

Apparently, everyone is worried about her. She doesn't really understand why. She does her job and she does it well. The Admiral tries to get her to open up but she honestly has nothing to say. Apollo arranges for them to have a heart to heart. And if she could laugh, she would have laughed at the awkward cliché-filled one-sided conversation. She had no words for him, and Lee did not take it well. He stormed off in frustration. She thinks maybe she regrets having everyone worry about her, but she really isn't sure whether or not she cares.

She just doesn't find anything all that interesting. Not interesting enough for her to bother with. That was until Sharon gave birth.

Sharon gave birth forty days into her sobriety. The baby was stillborn and Sharon died as a result of complications. Or maybe she just gave up, who knows how it was with those toasters. But Helo was beside himself. No one knew what to do. No one knew him well except for Starbuck. He didn't have many friends. The majority died in the first attack and the rest were weary of his affiliation with the Cylon.

Starbuck gets the Admiral to put Helo on medical leave. The man is in no shape to fly. She spends all her off-duty time with him, holed up in an abandoned storage room, just sitting with him, holding him when he cries and listening when he spoke.

She brings a few bottle of the Chief's finest on the third day and watches as he tries to give himself alcoholic poisoning. He passes out before he succeeds. She doesn't touch even a drop of the stuff, and she feels no urge to. She just sits there and watches over him.

On day five, he's angry and he throws the empty bottles against the wall, screaming obscenities at the Gods and curses the will of the fates. He falls to his knees allowing pieces of glass to embed into his flesh. The blood mixes with his tears and Kara thinks there's a beauty in the resultant mosaic. Kara holds onto him tightly, even as he collapses on top of her, falling asleep in exhaustion. When Doc Cottle asks where the glass in her back came from, she lies.

Helo is silent on day seven. His knees are all wrapped up courtesy of the Doc. For the first time in days he's sober. He looks at her solemnly when she walks into "their" storage room and they sit in silence until they both fall asleep.

In the middle of the night, his scream wakes her. Blood hurling screams of pain and grief. She crawls to where he is huddled by the wall and shakes him to consciousness. His eyes are shining with tears and he is gasping for breath. He holds onto her tightly muttering words that betray his pain. Suddenly, he grabs her shoulders, pushing her away for a fraction of a second before descending on her lips. Hard. She frowns at the unexpected action but remains non-resistant to his advances. He is muttering apologies but doesn't stop as he stripes them both of their clothing. His need is palpable. While she doesn't encourage him, she doesn't ask him to stop either. He needs this. And she understands that. She understands that there is a pain so great that you need to feel something, anything, just so you won't be consumed by it. That for just one moment in time, you need to find an escape from being swallowed up by the merciless gravity of the black hole of despair. So, she lets Karl touch her. Because he needs her. She won't ask him to stop. She won't ask that of him. And a part of her is glad she can do this for him. At the very least, she can stem his pain for a short time while he loses himself in her body.

For the first time in days, weeks, months, she thinks she might feel a twitch of something. She's not sure what that is, but she thinks that maybe, just maybe in healing him, she may be able to heal herself.


End file.
